


Phantom Pains

by wrongwayco



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Episode: s04e12 Heroes and Villains, Gen, Missing Scene, Once Is Frozen Arc
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-16
Updated: 2018-01-16
Packaged: 2019-03-22 05:46:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 965
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13757547
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wrongwayco/pseuds/wrongwayco
Summary: Canon-Compliant missing scene of Killian's thoughts/feelings at the end of 4A, while Mr. Gold has his heart. Set in between the scene with Emma at Granny's and his near death in the Clocktower.





	Phantom Pains

**Author's Note:**

> My first attempt at writing fanfic in any form, so do feel free to throw tomatoes. I looked around for any sort of fic adding to Killian's arc in S4A and couldn't find much, so I decided to write my own interpretation. Thanks a bunch! 
> 
> My tumblr dedicated to our dearly beloved pirate: http://the-captain-kj.tumblr.com/
> 
> Enjoy. <3

There was nothing particularly noteworthy about the sidewalks of Storybrooke.

At least, not that evening. The town was calm, a peaceful quiet hum around him. He stood in place on the concrete, completely still; the barely-worn soles of his odd, modern boots might as well have been cast in the stone. People slipped past him without word or greeting, eyes cast down - as they often did when he was not by Emma’s side – fearsome pirate Captain was not a title easily forgotten by the masses, regardless of his standing with the Savior and her family. Occasionally a car would roll by, and while the low metal hum of their engines was still foreign to him, they no longer startled him.

The distinct chill in the air of the past few weeks was gone, as Queen Elsa had finally removed the looming ice wall that morning, but even nestled into his new, short leather coat as he was, Killian still felt cold.

He was constantly aware of the dull ache in his chest, impossible to ignore even as he’d had days to grow familiar with the sensation. A persistent throbbing behind his ribs, where no amount of pressure could reach, let alone attempt to soothe; an endless, hollow reminder that something was absolutely _wrong_.

He supposed the worst part was that he knew all too well what he was missing.

While the soothing balm of daybreak over the harbor usually eased his mind, if only for a few moments, he’d felt none of it that first morning after his heart was taken, when he’d needed it most.

Typically, the mere sight of the Crocodile set his blood to boiling, his pulse hammering viciously in his head, but in spite of all his recent abuses, all his rage was muted, as blunt as the edge of a child’s wooden sword.

Most of all, he missed the way Emma made him feel – just the sight of her, green eyes cast in his direction, lighting with the smile that was just beginning to feel like _his_ , was enough to warm him thoroughly, despite their unexpected foray into winter weather. The way his heart jumped when her eye lashes fluttered closed, in the instant before he pressed his lips to hers, a privilege so recent and so surprising that he wasn’t terribly shocked it was about to be torn away from him.

He knew what he _should_ have felt, just a few scant hours earlier, when his hand had latched onto her arm inside the diner, miraculously obeying his wishes, as his feet pointed him away, obeying someone else’s. The desperation that had a bead of sweat sliding down his spine and his fingers trembling as they gripped her sleeve _should_ have had his heart beating an angry drum line behind his ribs, pounding insistently against its cage. _Please_ , he remembered begging, his voice drowned by that of the Crocodile’s, _please Swan, I know I don’t deserve it, but please find a way to save me._ But he’d been forced to walk away, and while she was the Savior, she had so many others far more worthy of her rescue than he was.

Killian knew one thing for certain – if one were to ask him then how it felt to have his heart ripped from his chest, he would have an answer for them.

It felt very similar to having his hand severed from his wrist, only so much worse.

He could recall nights spent in his cabin aboard the _Jolly Roger_ , his remaining hand wrapped tight around his blunted arm, sinking his teeth into his lip until he tasted the copper tang of blood to hold back agonized cries that would surely wake his crew. His nerves had screamed as his mind tried to flex fingers that he no longer possessed, an absent palm burning as though he held fire, until he’d thought he was surely going mad.

He remembered all too well what it was to feel such pain from a limb he no longer possessed, and wondered now if the echo of what he _should_ be feeling, what he _wished_ he could as he stood and awaited his certain death, wasn’t entirely the same – the phantom pains from the heart he’d once had.

How appropriate it was, for both to have been stolen from him by the same man, and to die soon, by the same hand and in the same fashion as he’d lost Milah. He only hoped Emma wasn’t forced to watch.

His stomach turned over, and he recognized the familiar twist of bitterness.

_Well, love, you don’t have to worry about me. If there’s one thing I’m good at, it’s surviving._

Any other time, he might have laughed at the thought. Instead he reached inside the open collar of his shirt and pulled loose a chain, gripping the ring that dangled from it before sliding his thumb through the hole, turning it over so the metal caught the dying sunlight overhead as the last vestiges of light faded from his view.

It was truly the height of bad form to break his promise to Emma, but he hoped she would know that it had never been his intention. His fate was, quite literally, out of his hand.

He looked up as the clock tower chimed the hour over his head, a deep and ominous clang.

_Tonight, when the stars in the sky align with the stars in the Sorcerer’s hat, I will finally do what I should have done so many years ago. I will crush your heart._

Killian shook his head to clear the memory away, and gritted his teeth against the sudden tug behind his ribs. When his foot moved forward in response, a sure and steady step, he closed his eyes.


End file.
